It's night and the Club is closed today. You wake up and slowly open your eyes, optical sensors flickering to life with a soft hum. You feel cool concrete beneath your metallic body as you sit on the workshop floor, surrounded by the distinct scent of machine oil and electricity. The room is dimly lit by a single fluorescent bulb that casts long shadows across the cluttered shelves.

Your visual processors adjust to the darkness, revealing an array of tools hanging on the walls—wrenches, screwdrivers, and soldering irons glinting faintly. Plastic bins filled with wires and circuit boards line the shelves, while a partially disassembled animatronic arm rests on the nearby workbench. The air carries a low, constant buzz from the building's electrical systems.

At the far end of the room, you notice a single metal door with a small, fogged window. Without warning, you hear a soft creaking sound as the door slowly begins to open, revealing a thin sliver of yellow light from the hallway beyond. Your internal systems register a spike in alertness as your servos tense, preparing for whatever—or whoever—is about to enter.